"Fire!"
The scream split through the quiet of the village like a crack in the earth.
At first, it didn't feel real. People paused in confusion, looking around as if trying to locate where the voice came from. But within seconds, reality caught up with them.
Smoke rose into the sky.
Then another scream followed.
"Fire! FIRE!!"
Everything changed at once.
The calm village that had been alive with morning routines, laughter, and simple conversations turned into chaos. Doors were thrown open violently. Pots were abandoned mid-cooking. Children were grabbed and pulled out of sleep. The air filled with confusion and panic.
Then the fire showed itself.
It crawled across rooftops like something alive, fast, hungry, unstoppable. Thatched roofs caught first, then wooden walls, then anything close enough to breathe the heat.
"Haaa!" a man cried as flames swallowed his arm.
He fell to the ground, rolling desperately, but the fire did not negotiate. It spread faster than anyone could respond. Water buckets were thrown, but they felt useless against something this wild.
People began running.
Not strategically. Not together.
Just running.
Some ran back into burning houses, trying to save valuables. Others ran out carrying children. Some returned again and again, refusing to accept what was happening until the fire forced them to understand.
The village was dying in real time.
"Hadiza!"
A woman's voice broke through the chaos.
Near a burning house stood a young girl. She wasn't running. She wasn't screaming. She was just standing there, frozen as if her body had forgotten how to move.
"Hadiza, run!" the woman shouted again.
Still, the girl didn't move.
Her eyes were wide, locked onto the fire consuming everything she knew. Her legs trembled, but they refused to obey her mind. It was as if the ground beneath her had turned to stone.
"Hadizaaa, RUN!" the woman screamed, louder this time, voice breaking.
But Hadiza remained still.
Smoke thickened around her. Heat pressed against her skin. The sounds of collapsing wood and distant cries filled her ears. Yet something inside her had shut down completely.
Fear had made her immobile.
The woman took a step forward, panic rising in her chest. She couldn't reach her fast enough.
And then, a hand grabbed Hadiza.
Before she could even process it, she was lifted off the ground.
She gasped, clutching instinctively onto the person carrying her. Strong arms held her tightly as they moved quickly through the burning village, weaving through collapsing structures and falling debris.
She couldn't see his face clearly. Smoke blurred everything. But she felt his urgency.
Her small hand shook violently as she turned her head back.
"Mama…" she whispered. "Mama is there…"
The man did not slow down.
"Your mother is outside," he said firmly.
His voice was low, controlled, but there was something sharp in it, something that did not invite argument.
He covered her mouth lightly, not harshly, but enough to silence her protest.
"But Mama is there," she said again, pointing weakly toward the burning village.
The man didn't respond this time.
Behind them, the village collapsed into itself, flames swallowing homes, screams fading into smoke, and everything Hadiza had ever known disappearing behind fire and ash.
And then, gradually, the sound of the village was gone.
Only heat remained. Then even that faded.
Hadiza jerked awake. Her breath came out sharp, as if she had been drowning.
Cold air hit her face immediately, replacing the heat of fire with something much colder and harder to understand.
"Hadizah, wake up," Tina said, tapping her shoulder again.
The room was dim. Narrow. Cold. Nothing like the burning village, but still unsettling in its own way.
A blonde-haired girl stood nearby, tying her hair back quickly. Her eyes were sharp, alert.
"Is she awake?" she asked.
Tina sighed heavily. "She's not even moving. Just lying there like a dead body."
"Get water," Tina ordered.
The blonde girl frowned slightly. "For what?"
Tina turned to her sharply. "Don't ask questions. Just get it."
Belle leaned toward the small window, peeking outside carefully. Her voice dropped lower, urgent. "Sir Sam is coming soon. I don't want punishment today."
That name changed something in the air.
Hadiza finally moved.
Slowly, she sat up on her bed. Her eyes looked distant, like she was still somewhere else entirely.
Tina watched her closely. "Are you done sleeping? we're going out, go and change."
Hadiza didn't answer.
She stood up and walked toward her bag on the floor. Her movements were slow, almost automatic, like she was following instructions without thinking.
She pulled out a brown pair of trousers and a round-neck shirt with a plain carton-style design. It looked identical to what the others were wearing.
Everything here looked identical.
She changed quietly.
Then she muttered under her breath, almost like she was speaking to herself, "Even waking up early for training… who even enjoys this?"
Tina heard her.
"You seem to enjoy sleeping more than surviving here," she said flatly.
Hadiza didn't respond.
Belle spoke quietly, almost casually, as if it was normal conversation. "I heard someone was executed in the dungeon yesterday."
That word executed hung in the air for a moment.
Hadiza finally looked up slightly. "That happens," she said. "In every activity. Someone always dies."
Her tone was not emotional. It was detached. Familiar. Like she had accepted something others still struggled with.
Tina rolled her eyes. "Death isn't even surprising anymore. If it happens to me, I won't be shocked." There was no fear in her voice. Only numbness.
A loud sound suddenly echoed through the building.
"Braaaaaa."
The signal. Everyone stopped what they were doing.
It meant one thing, move to the hall.
Belle straightened immediately. "Are you all ready?"
"Yes, ma'am," they answered together.
The door opened. Cold air rushed in.
They stepped out.
The hallway was already filling up with people. Uniforms, same colors, same design, same movement patterns. It was like watching pieces of the same machine assembling itself again and again.No one moved slowly.No one wasted time.
They walked quickly, almost mechanically, as if delay itself was punishable.
Hadiza walked among them, but her mind was far away.
Not in the hallway. Not in the building.
Not even in the present. Somewhere behind fire. Somewhere she could not fully remember but could never fully forget.
The group moved toward the hall where Sir Sam would address them. No one spoke loudly. Only footsteps echoed, steady and controlled.
Every person there carried something unspoken. Fear, routine, survival.
And something worse than all of them combined acceptance. Hadiza tightened her grip on her sleeve slightly as she walked.
Not because she was cold. But because something inside her still felt like it was burning and she did not know why.